More Than Words
by KaGoMeS-kId-TrEaSuRe
Summary: Sometimes the most simple gestures are worth more than words.


**AN: Hello I am back from the land of no writing! Don't know how long my vacation will be, but I'll enjoy my visit for now.**

 **warning: major character death**

 **thanks for reading, hope you like it!**

* * *

Ciel often wondered how he was going to die. After all, damned souls like his would never live to see old age. It was only a matter of time before his demon consumed him, and when that happened, they would be one _forever_.

It was best to have a sense of humour about these things. He knew the clock was ticking. No one was exempt from death. To grow a centimeter taller, or a year older was a miracle. They were small victories celebrated in silence, stepping stones towards his ultimate goal. So, it amused him to imagine the ways in which he would parish. Of the violent scenarios conjured in his mind, both terrifying and exhilarating, one thing was certain: his executioner. The monster delivering him from this world to the next was the manifestation of his sins. It was the one who shadowed him wherever he went, waiting patiently.

Sebastian was a creature of his making. He was built for his disposal, and willed by his design. His face, his scent, his voice- _everything_ was tailored to suit his needs. He was a model of perfection. His façade lured in enemies, and eased their way into fitting circumstances. Nothing his master demanded was too difficult to accomplish. The devil lived to please him. He charmed in his favour and acted on his command. That was the basis of their covenant. Only with his power could Ciel lift himself from the wreckage of _that day_ , and only the earl's soul could satiate his growing hunger.

His demon was a double edge sword; a tool, a medium, an extension of himself. The earl would be near powerless without him. However, a time will come when their contract will come to a close, and through that apathetic being, he will live eternally.

Ciel knew it would be foolish to think Sebastian could _feel_. He would not hesitate to kill him at the slightest provocation, and remorse, the boy was certain, would not follow. He knew this from experience. Why, if the child didn't know how to love, how then would his fiend be able to? Yet as the demon's bloody claws sank into the flesh of his torso, and whet teeth clamped onto his ribs, the earl found himself consumed by the notion that this wasn't the case. Because, he mused, if Sebastian was so uncaring, then why was he looking at him like _that_?

It was funny, really. His body had gone into shock from the pain. Ciel watched in horror as his demon snapped his bones and slurped up his intestines like noodles. His mind was moving so quickly that he hadn't wholly grasped what was happening. He could have sworn he was standing over the last of his tormentors only moments ago, unsatisfied by the fear on their sniveling faces. Now, he was being eaten alive.

His vision was growing muddled as he made out fangs digging through his heart. He knew he was dying, and yet he did not say a word. No, he made no effort to stop Sebastian. Instead, he stilled himself as much as he could and allowed the beast to fill his hunger. While bearing the unspeakable, he couldn't help but be was glad it was over. After years of fighting through darkness, he was relieved. Tonight he will close his eyes and never have to wake.

There would be no more cross-examining various situations when he thought there could be more. If he could resist dwelling on the unnecessary, then he could stop wishing for a future he knew could never exist. He would not become a plaything for the demon. He refused to be toyed with.

 _However_...

A cruel voice piqued. This was its chance to speak, and it would not allow the boy to die in peace.

Obscure images sweetly beckoned the child, bringing him to the to restless nights buried under his covers. He found himself listening to approaching footsteps, and the swoosh of the opening door. Slowing his breathing, he shut his eyes and counted the number of steps taken from the entrance to the foot of his bed.

 _However,_ _butlers have no reason to check on their masters if they were not called._ Especially in the middle of the night. In truth, he should be upset by the intrusion. To be seen in such a defenseless state was not something he wished anyone to see. Still, he remained motionless, trying to withstand the request his butler anticipates.

"Of course, my Lord. Whatever you desire..."

The memory faded into a second and third. Again he found himself running through the dead alleyway that was difficult to suppress. As soon as the red reaper stepped out, gloved hands blocked the horrendous sight. But what was the point of it, the earl always questioned. Why did Sebastian care what he saw? There was no point in protecting him from it. _Wasn't tainting him part of why he was there?_

He recalled private conversations after, tiptoeing around the event. Questions were answered with straightforwardness, sans sarcasm. Cakes with dollops of icing were served in growing increments. It mattered not what time of day, or whether it would spoil his dinner. They were handed over without reluctance, a discreet apology.

Another.

Fingers lingered just long enough to cause uncertainty. _The contract did not force him to be_ ** _gentle_** _with the earl._ His butler dressed and bathed him in the evening. The routine was performed without fail. Simple touches gave birth to brushing hands and light caresses. Nightly soaks were extended for longer periods of time, and sometimes carried out throughout the day. Soon his butler insisted another change of clothes, to which he would not object to. But they were unnecessary. The child had two working hands. He could very well clothe himself.

More.

 _Did demons look at their meals the way Sebastian looked at him?_ Of course, he had nothing to compare his to, but past the look of hunger, was definitely _something_. Whenever he felt like eyes were tracing him, his butler was always the culprit. It wasn't a gaze of aggravation or anything the like. The inflection in his brows seemed too sincere, almost beguiled. And, _oh_ , the countless times their eyes met from across the room. Those were no ordinary smirks.

But he is a _demon_ , the child reminded himself. _He cannot feel_. But...he knew there must be something more, because-

 _Yes? Because?_

Because _he_ felt something _too_.

A single drop fell on the side of the boy's face. It was noticeably warm against the coldness of the rest of his body. He was surprised to say the least, and was certain he was imagining it until he saw a hint of it in the devil's eyes. Ciel smiled into despondent sangria. The demon licked away the blood on his mouth before planting a kiss on his lips. He lifted a hand to touch the demon's hair. It was the only gesture he could muster. It meant something to him, and he was sure Sebastian would understand.

So, he gave up his soul to feed the starving demon, and with that, Sebastian rested his head on the boy's shoulder, where he would remain. For he knew what his master could not: the truth of his actions. He had never been as enamored by another being as he was with the earl. That was no secret, as the butler often tried to express.

Ciel often wondered how he was going to die. _Sebastian_ , however knew exactly the way **_he_** would. It would happen too soon, when his young master received his revenge. The boy will allow his demon to devour him as he pleased. And when he did that, when life left the child, so too would his.


End file.
